began to tingle as though from cold. Gunnar paused on the path just beside the boulder, rested his hands on the stone, and murmured a low chant.
Before Jasper’s eyes, a mirage effect shimmered in the air in a large, elliptical shape. Within the shape, the darkness of the lush summer foliage faded into the stark gray of a winter’s night. A chill crept over his skin, the icy breeze drifting through.
“You’ll want to shift again for warmth,” Gunnar said. “We’re less susceptible to cold than humans are, but our human forms are still vulnerable to it.”
As they stepped beyond the rift in summer, Gunnar released his hand, falling to all fours and transforming again into a glorious, white-furred beast. Jasper’s simple intention was enough for his own body to find the shape, this time coming to him as naturally as taking a breath.
Once in his native shape, Autumn’s scent reached him again, and without a sound or a look back at Gunnar, he took off through the woods following it. The aroma of her permeated his mind, reminding him of the first twinges of icy weather at the cusp of winter, mixed with the spice of mulled cider, fresh-cut firewood, and the whiskey his dad and uncle loved to drink. Her scent embodied long-dormant memories as completely as the promise of making future memories.
Gunnar kept pace with him, and before long, Jasper knew exactly where the other male had taken her. There were few places in these mountains they could have hidden. His own house might have been an option, except that Julian and August were currently living there, and would be until their replacements arrived. The other spot was an old Forest Service cabin that hadn’t been used in years. Her scent, mixed with that of the other male, grew more potent the closer they got. Fresh wood smoke drifted to his nose, carried by the chilly air, and he stopped short, just within sight of the cabin that was nestled in a small valley near a frozen creek. It had snowed within the last few days, and half-melted snowdrifts had gathered in the shade on the north side of the cabin while icicles hung down from the eaves.
The first glimmers of dawn light cast the cabin into eerie shadows. It looked like an idyllic hideaway with the warm glow coming from inside, the firelight the only visible illumination from this distance.
Gunnar let out a deep rumble beside him when a large silhouette passed before the window. A second later, the door opened and a tall, bulky, blond-haired man stepped out, wearing only jeans and an unbuttoned flannel shirt. He shut the door gently behind him and stared down at his bare feet for the longest time.
Jasper raised his head into the air, sniffing deeply from the shadows. It was the same male whose scent he’d followed along with Autumn’s to get here. Even from this distance, he could smell her on him: the same, lusty scent she’d had the day before when he’d watched her pleasure herself by the water. It seemed odd that he could recognize that delicious fragrance now, even though he hadn’t smelled it at the time. Perhaps his senses had been aware enough, at the time, even if his mind couldn’t discern the subtleties in the air.
Underneath her scent he caught more, however. If he had to name it, he smelled shame, despair, regret, and the tiniest bit of reluctant hope on the man. None of it made him want to hate the man as much as he’d imagined he would upon finding him. He pitied him, because he understood all those emotions profoundly.
Before he could shift and approach him, however, Gunnar let out a loud growl that echoed through the cold morning air, then charged.
The man’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t move a muscle otherwise. Jasper followed on Gunnar’s heels, wishing he had the ability to speak in his bear form instead of just growling incoherently.
“Gunn!” the man yelled. “She’s not . . . ”
The man didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Gunnar’s massive bulk smacked